


When It's Only Me And You (Why Does Everything Gotta Break In Three)

by fortymaliks



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortymaliks/pseuds/fortymaliks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about Harry being fucked up is that it's apparently contagious. Because Nick is definitely fucked up for Harry.</p><p>Which is why he's agreeing to this, pulling the door of his flat open and letting Louis Tomlinson walk through it after Harry does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When It's Only Me And You (Why Does Everything Gotta Break In Three)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [andsparkles](http://archiveofourown.org/users/andsparkles/pseuds/andsparkles) for reading this over. <3

Nick has decided that Harry Styles is definitely fucked up.

And the thing about Harry being fucked up is that it's apparently contagious. Because Nick is definitely fucked up for Harry.

Which is why he's agreeing to this, pulling the door of his flat open and letting Louis Tomlinson walk through it after Harry does. Louis' eyes meet Nick's for a split second before they wrench away, landing on the floor. He doesn't say hello when Harry says it, just stands awkwardly in Nick's living room with his arms crossed so tightly across his chest that it looks like it might hurt.

In another situation, Nick might be tempted to smile at Louis; to reassure him. It's not as if Nick is some sort of heathen without manners. He's not going to do it now, though. He really doesn't see why he should be the one to try and make Louis feel better, when Nick needs it just as badly. He needs it more, maybe, he thinks as he brings one hand up to rub awkwardly at his neck.

Harry has slung his jacket over the couch, toed his shoes off, and made himself right at home. He pushes his way into the kitchen, asking Nick if he's got a kettle on, as if he doesn't notice the awkward little dance Nick and Louis are doing around each other.

It's only when Harry's out of ear shot that Nick decides it's safe to mention it. “Are we really-”

“Yeah.” Louis says suddenly, cutting Nick off with words too firm to be quite believable. “Yes, we are. Why, are you backing out already?”

Nick makes sure to narrow his eyes in what he hopes is a threatening fashion. 

“No,” he says, "of course not.”

Louis nods once. Nick can spot the white tips of his fingers where they press into the flesh of his arms, hard enough to cut off some of the circulation. “Good. Because Harry really wants this.”

“And what Harry's wants...” Nick trails off, and Louis snorts out a laugh. Their eyes meet for the first time, and Nick lets his mouth curve up into a half smile. For the first time, he thinks this might just be okay.

He realizes exactly how wrong he is later, when they've made it to Nick's bedroom and Harry's standing between them. He drags his eyes back and forth between Nick and Louis, and it's not as if Nick doesn't know what is supposed to happen now. He hesitates like he always does with Harry, though he knows, just like always, that he'll eventually give in.

He looks at Louis, then, and it hits him how much he can see himself reflected there. Louis' gaze is locked on Harry, and while there's anger and lust, Nick can also spot the reverence. Louis is just as gone for Harry Styles as Nick is, which he'd always known. But it's different now.

Louis has always existed for Nick as a faceless target, as someone on whom he can focus his frustration when Harry has him twisted up yet again. With another story about being on tour, whispered against Nick's mouth, fond memories from Harry's past fucking with Nick's present. Another late night, Harry knocking on his door, eyes wide and shining wet, muttering about Louis and Eleanor.

Nick hates Louis Tomlinson. He'd decided it long before he'd ever had the bloke standing in his flat, ready to do _whatever this was_. He hates Louis more than just a little, but well... Nick guesses the amount of hate that curls in his guts must not be anywhere near enough to get him to ignore whatever it is he feels when he thinks about Harry.

“Will you let him kiss you, Lou?” Harry's asks then, quiet and curious, like he's trying not to spook them.

Nick's not quite certain when all of this became up to Louis. Nick would like to have some say in the matter, thank you very much, and it's this thought that has him lunging forward with an exasperated sigh. He fists the front of Louis' t-shirt and yanks him in, ignoring the tiny yelp Louis makes and crushing their lips together.

Louis' angles are sharper than Harry's; Nick grabs at his elbows to pull him in tighter. Louis comes to Nick reluctantly, lets him fit their bodies together while Nick pries Louis' lips apart with his own and pushes his tongue into his mouth, a little too firm to really be friendly.

He wants to smirk when he hears Harry's low exhale, when he says, _fuck, you guys..._ , but Nick can't because that's when Louis finally gets with the picture and starts to give back. His hands finally come up to grip Nick's waist, and he digs his fingers in sharply and pulls Nick's hips so that they crash into each other. They've still got their clothes on, so Louis' grip shouldn't sting as much as it does, but Nick lets it happen, thinks, maybe all of this should hurt, anyway.

It probably shouldn't bother Nick as much as it does when Harry comes up behind Louis, wrapping his arms around Louis' shoulders. Nick pulls back a bit, lets Louis' teeth drop down to graze his collarbone so that he can watch Harry press soft little kisses into the back of Louis' neck. Nick knows what that feels like, and the way Louis' lips stutter back up to Nick's own confirm it for him.

Harry's hands meet Nick's then, low on Louis' hips. His eyes meet Nick's gaze when Nick tangles their fingers together. There's more of a challenge there than a question, though Harry seems to get the answer he was looking for because he steps back and tugs Louis with him gently.

Nick hasn't seen a lot of people in his bed before, mostly just Harry-- all right, only ever Harry-- so it's strange when Harry presses Louis gently backwards into it. Nick slides his hands down to thumb the button of his trousers open, pushing them down past his knees. He tries to step out of them, and doesn't really manage it gracefully. He watches Harry slide the fabric of Louis' pants down over his hips, pulling them off until Louis is fully naked, a red flush colouring the majority of his skin.

Harry leans over to kiss Louis, then. It's soft and sweet, and Nick feels like an intruder in his own house, watching them together on his own bed, in his own sheets. A fist clenches around his heart, sudden and sharp. 

Nick has never been a big enough fool to believe that Harry Styles was ever _his_ , but he'd never once considered that Harry might belong to someone else.

Harry kisses Louis once more, presses up and off the bed to rid himself of his clothes, and when he's finished, he comes over to press his lips to the corner of Nick's mouth. He pulls back expectantly, drops his gaze to Louis on the bed, and then turns back to Nick to see if he's been following.

Yeah, Nick gets it.

Louis Tomlinson really does make a picture, spread out gloriously for Nick, waiting patiently for him. Nick knows it's not for his sake-- and thank god for that, really-- but Nick can't pretend he's not affected by it. Louis' not an unattractive person, not by a long shot, and Harry's watching, waiting, _wanting this_ , and Nick is only human.

“Come on, then, Grimshaw,” Louis taunts, sarcasm he's probably taken years to perfect curling sharply around the words. “Touch me like you mean it.”

“Fuck you, Tomlinson,” Nick spits, trying for cheeky as he moves to hover over Louis, knees bracketing his hips.

“I suppose that's the point,” Louis observes, flippantly, and then they go back to not speaking to each other.

\---

 

“We've got an early flight.” Harry tells him, and it's the _we_ that Nick focuses on, the edges of his vision blurring with jealousy. Louis smirks as he slips out the front door, like he knows. He doesn't say goodbye and he doesn't look back to make sure Harry's following him. He knows as well as Nick does that Harry will.

“I'll miss you,” Harry says, yanking Nick down into a kiss. “Text me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nick says, and he lets Harry slide out of his grip after Louis, the door banging shut behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS AWFUL WHY DID I WRITE THIS. I wish this was more porn and less angst, but, you know. It happens.
> 
> I wrote this because Erica wanted Louis/Harry/Nick (and I wanted it, too, fiiiiine). I hope someone else writes it for her (us), and makes it the fun, happy, sexytimes that it should be.
> 
> I realize the title of this is long and ridiculous, but it's from the Joel Plaskett tune [Deny, Deny, Deny](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKoPyk6cUME), so forgive me on the strength of that?
> 
> //[tumblr](http://fortymaliks.tumblr.com)//[twitter](http://twitter.com/fortymaliks)//


End file.
